


Aftermath

by Ruunkur



Series: Reboot: Aftermath [2]
Category: Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-25 02:08:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17716016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruunkur/pseuds/Ruunkur
Summary: How do the four kids that don't legally exist, cope with what they've been put through?





	1. My name is...

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the four(maybe five, if I can think of something for Ryo) kids after the reboot aftermath.
> 
> Maybe won't make sense without having read Delicate Delusions?
> 
> This is set up to read like a blog post. Each of the following four(five?) chapters will probably have a different style.

My name is Miyako Inoue.

There's a moment where I knew that we had been fucked. We were in the fight, the fight that would determine the rest of our lives. Whether we lived or died, were rescued or forgotten.

And there was a piece of me that revealed in that moment. In the way that the world had held its breath.

Of course, we ended up being taken down. There was no way us four, even together and with Imperialdramon, could have taken down that thing.

Maybe, maybe if the others had come through but...

I was fifteen when it happened. A year above the second group of chosen. Iori was twelve, the youngest of us. Ken and Daisuke were fourteen. Maybe, if we had our Jogress partners with us, something would have been different.

But, from what he tells us, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. They got slaughtered. They rebooted the world.

They rebooted us.

Perhaps I should start at the beginning? Sometimes it's hard to get my thoughts in order. See, there's four, five if you count Ryo but he doesn't count himself most of the time, of us that got caught up in the digital world's games.

Oh, that's right.

Even with everything that happened, you wouldn't have heard of the digital world.

Don't worry, it's okay. There's only six of us that know of the digital world now. I suppose six is better than five. That sixth member means that me and my friends have a place to go and be remembered. It's hard to be in a fight, then wake up in a hospital, a Jane Doe with no record. No place in Japan. No place on earth, because you don't exist.

See? You don't remember the events like I do. God, I think we landed Taichi in a psych word for a couple of years. And, when he got out, he was still insistent that we were real.

And, that's where the problem lies, doesn't it? We are real. As real as anyone reading this. We exist, just as we existed before the reboot. Just as we existed, right up until the fight took us out and our friends forgot us.

I'm hunched over my laptop now, typing this out with trembling fingers. Taichi is passed out on the couch, a bottle of alcohol having been sat next to him.

So, where do I begin? I told you about the fight with Jesmon.

Okay, maybe not told, but mentioned it. Jesmon is an Ultimate level digimon that handed our asses to us, on a silver platter. Knocked us out of the fight from Meicoomon before we even got a chance to play. Maybe, if we had been there, the outcome would have been different?

Meicoomon was a digimon that went on a rampage. A rampage bad enough that it nearly destroyed both the human and digital world.

Of course, you wouldn't remember that, now would you?

God, I feel like I'm rambling. This may be an online confessions board, but I swear I'm not crazy.

We're not sure how Taichi found us. We were nestled in the digital world, set to hibernate until the madness was over.

Or until we all died.

I'm not a hundred percent sure how much time passed between Jesmon fighting us and Taichi finding us. He wasn't sure how he ended up in the digital world, either. It would have been after the reboot.

Agumon remembered him, out of all things. The digimon remembered their partners, when Koushiro was so certain that the digimon would be the ones to forget.

Their partners remembered us. All of them. They were disappointed that their human partners didn't come for them. Our partners had been destroyed by Jesmon, to never return.

That fucking sucks. To know our partners were destroyed, while their partners were forgotten in the digital world. Totally fair, right?

Fuck, I'm drifting again. Probably too high to be posting this.

Okay, so we got caught up in the digital world mess and reboot. We, along with the rest of the digital world, end up being completely wiped from everyone's memories. We tried, for a good week, we tried. Taichi tried for us, insisting everything that happened was real.

Ken was smart enough to stay away from his family. His parents were heart broken, they had lost two sons in the car accident that had only taken his brother. The four of us were able to eke out a living. Everyone that we had interacted with before the reboot, though? Well, that's a different story.

Other than Taichi, they don't believe we exist. We can be standing right in front of them, calling their names, waving our hands. They'll see us, for the briefest of moments, and then we'll fade away, like we weren't even there to begin with.

Do you know how hard it is to continue to have a relationship with a person who can't even remember who you are?

It's so hard and I... I love her, but I'm not willing to put myself through that.

I guess I should introduce myself? My name's Inoue Miyako. Nowadays, I introduce myself is Miya Mota, per the fake idea. I think the four of us liked the idea of meshing our last names together, because we sort of have this thing...

Our lasts name are Motanouichida.

Yeah, doesn't make a lot of sense. Probably looks like a monstrosity when people see it in on paperwork for applications. But, it's what the four of us want. The unwanted kids that have no past.

Yes, we have jobs. Taichi is not the only person supporting us. We're far enough that any of the other chosen won't come across us and forget that we're there.

Daisuke had a job that he got fired from, because of that issue. Poor guy.

The two years that Taichi was in the ward, we had to figure out what to do. We got a cheap, cash apartment,. One that wouldn't ask questions. When Taichi showed up at our door, after those first three years, apologizing and babbling about something I couldn't make out, I was surprised.

We had known that Taichi could see us, could remember us. He had been in the digital world after the reboot.

And that's the biggest question any of us have. How did Taichi find us?

That's the question that's about driven Ken to lose the rest of his sanity. Daisuke to drink. And Iori to withdraw into himself.

I care about these guys. They're my teammates. We can get by, we have jobs. Not everyone forgot about us. Just... the people that knew us before the reboot.

We can forge new connections. But, knowing that a whole chunk of your life doesn't exist? That you're not a person until the day you were found, a teenager, at the hospital?

That shit hurts.

Seeing your family glance over you, do a double take, and then turn away. Knowing that their daughter, Miyako Inoue, died when she was a little girl, hurts.

Maybe... maybe we are part of a delusion. Maybe we don't exist. There's nothing that tells me otherwise. Nothing to place me in this world. I could just be a fragment of Taichi's shattered mind.

And I think that's what scares me the most.

I've looked into the discostivite identity disorder. The only hitch there is that, we have physical bodies. I think, maybe if I were an aspect of someone's delusional mind, maybe I would feel better.

There's a guy in America that we met once. His name is Wallace. Never caught is last name. That's not someone Taichi ever met. The guy's never left Japan. Surely, if I weren't my own person, I wouldn't have that memory?

There's a lot of things I question. Sitting here, hunched over the laptop... I want to cry. It's not fair that we were pulled into another world to fight their battle. And, when we were no longer useful, it spit us back out without any sort of knowledge that we had a place to go.

Shitty, right? Right out of some sort of teenage romance novel. Or something. Your family and friends forget you, all but that one person who has to convince the others that you are real. That you aren't a product of their imagination.

I guess... in a way, we are, aren't we? We have no families. We can find employment, but we best hope that we don't run across one of those that knew us before. Stay away from families, of friends. Know that there is so little that you do have control over.

And by know, I do mean know on a personal level. They had to have some grasp of us. Some idea of who we were. Not just that we were someone who happened to walk past them, at some point.

They had to know our names, know something about us. That’s what hurts the most. Is that the people who knew us the best, don’t know us anymore.

And will never remember us.

And don't ever, ever mention the digital world.

Everyone had seen something about it. If you mention it, their eyes will glaze over, like their mind is resetting. And then, you'll be forgotten, just another face.

If this is what the digital world wanted, then fuck them, they got it.

I... I miss my family. Never thought I'd say it. I miss all my siblings, of the bickering, of the stupid convenience store that my parents ran.

I want to be apart of it again. But, the digital world took that away from me, didn't they? They took that away and there is nothing more that we can do.

So, fuck it. Anyone who reads this will probably forget because it contains the words, 'digital world' and I'll become just another blank face on the internet.

Just, if you do remember, let us know? I just, I need to know that we aren't alone in the world.

My name is Miyako Inoue, and I do exist, don't I?


	2. Obsessions that haunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, so, as said before, all of these are gonna be different in way of reading.
> 
> Miyako's was a blog post in first person, Ken's is, well, this.
> 
> Daisuke and Iori's will also be slightly different.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!

He takes a slow puff on the cigarette, holding the smoke in before he puffed it out, watching it swirls in the air. Around him, he could hear the other apartment occupants move about, waking up after the disastrous visit the night prior.

The four of them? They had gotten good at hiding when the other kids came around.

Not that they were younger than Ken, it just felt weird to refer to them as adults. They were so similar, but so... different from what Ken remembered.

These chosen paled in comparison to the ones that Ken recalled. The ones that he grew up knowing. The ones that were taken away by the reboot.

The same reboot that had taken them all away. Had left them shells.

Had taken away their homes and families, and ability to live normal lives.

Ken took another drag, carefully tapping the ashes of the cigarette into the murky waters of a quarter filled bottle. He would have to dump it soon, and get a new one, but that could be taken care of for another day.

His worry was settled on the room that hadn't had three older teens spill from it, the one where Taichi had sequestered himself away.

Ken had seen Miyako leave early in the morning, her laptop clutched to her chest.

Daisuke was cleaning the kitchen, his pride and joy. It was the only part of the apartment that hadn't been worn down by their combined apathy.

His gaze wandered to where Daisuke was now, his hair damp from the shower. The man was looking at what was in the fridge, his brows furrowed.

"Think we need to go shopping soon?" Ken asked, his voice almost muffled.

Daisuke glanced back at him, shrugging. "Probably. Have you checked on Taichi today?"

Ken let out a sigh, his breath disturbing the smoke in the air.

"Also, you promised you would only smoke outside."

Ken rolled his eyes, placing the rest of the cigarette in the bottle of water and pushing himself up from the couch. "I'll check on Taichi. Maybe message Miyako and see if she'll pick something up on the way home. Is Iori at work?"

Daisuke gave him a distracted nod as Ken headed into the first room. He rested his hand flat against the door, turning it into a fist and knocking.

"What?"

The voice was muffled, Ken letting out a sigh.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure."

Ken walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. It was dim, his eyes quickly adjusting. Taichi was sprawled on his bed, eyes staring at the ceiling. Ken frowned at the state, his gaze sliding over the bed to the rest of the room.

"I'm thinking of going on a cleaning spree today. Do you want me to clean up in here as well?"

Ken did freelance work, something that was slow most days. He was not the one that brought in most of the money, but he did get paid well when he was willing to put in the work. Cleaning house was something he did to pass time.

"How could I have forgotten Hikari's wedding?"

Ken quirked an eyebrow, looking at Taichi.

"How could they have forgotten us?"

It was quiet, then. Ken let his gaze travel back around the room, gaze landing on Taichi once more.

"Sorry."

Ken shook his head. "Probably not the best thing to bring up, apologies. You had a lot on your-"

"You four have jobs. You get in more money than I probably will. My friends won't even acknowledge what we've gone through. How do they think we became friends in the first place?" Taichi was sitting up now, his gaze flashing and Ken just let out a sigh.

"Unlikely friendships do happen."

"They've forgotten everything."

Ken let out a sigh, reaching over and taking a fist of Taichi's shirt, tugging him upwards.

"You're going to rot in your own petrid shit of a mind if you keep on like this. We're going out."

"Out?"

Ken's eyes flashed, meeting Taichi's gaze. "Out, yes. You and I. I will clean the apartment when we get home. Now, do you need me to get you clothes or do you think you can handle that?"

Taichi took a breath, steadying himself when Ken let go of his shirt. "Fine, but where are we going?"

Ken cocked a smile, eyes eyes flashing. "Out."

***

When Ken emerged from the bedroom the four of them shared, it was wearing a different face. Makeup, high heels, perhaps a slightly too short skirt, loose sleeved shirt, and a wig that rippled down his back. His eyes flashed and he smiled at Taichi, walking over and curling a hand around his arm.

"You ready?" he breathed.

Taichi cocked an eyebrow, Ken yanking him towards the door with a quick shout over his shoulder that they would be back.

Dressed like this, Ken was offered some sort of disguise, something he was grateful for. And it was, dressed like this, that Ken took Taichi towards the address Yamato had left on the counter, with a note hastily scrawled to 'stop by and see their siblings if he was sober any time soon'.

"Where are we going?"

Ken slanted his gaze over to Taichi, curling his hand tighter around Taichi's arm.

"We are going to see your sister."

Taichi quirked an eyebrow. "How are you going... oh."

"My name is Kimi. We met a couple of months ago. I want to see how this plays out."

Taichi raised an eyebrow, his eyes scanning Ken up and down. "You don't think...?"

"I don't know, so I may as well try."

The ride was quiet, Ken resting his head against Taichi's shoulder as the train moved. It was simple to play the girl so wrapped up in being in love with Taichi. It was a mask that Ken wore often, when he did his freelance work.

And it was Ken who led the way to the small apartment, pushing Taichi into making the first knock. When the door was opened, Ken held his breath, watching the face of Hikari. Her hair was pulled back, much longer than he had recalled it being when they were fourteen.

"Oh."

Her gaze skipped from Taichi to Ken, who pushed Taichi in front of him with a small smile.

"Uh, hey, 'Kari." Taichi shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Hikari's face. "This is, uh.. Kimi. I- I'm sorry for missing the... wedding."

Hikari's smile was tight, but she beckoned the two in, Ken following closely behind Taichi. The apartment was decorated, a cat staring at Ken. It curled its lips up in a hiss, Ken looking away and brushing hair out of his face.

"It's... fine. Yamato mentioned he had stopped by to check on you yesterday."

And it was, Ken hovering the entire time as the day lingered. There was only a moment, when he was coming out of the bathroom and nearly ran into Takeru, that gave him pause.

"Oh, sorry." Takeru ducked his head, taking a step back as Ken finished drying his hands on the skirt. He flashed the blond a smile, feeling a nail drive into his heart.

"No, no, it's fine. Takeru, correct?" Ken asked, pitching his voice.

"Yeah and you're... Kimi?"

Ken smiled, nodding in agreement and walking with Takeru towards the living room. It hurt, being so close to Takeru that Ken could reach out and touch him.

And he was grateful when they could leave.

Grateful, and wondering if they could shake up the chosen that forgotten, if they were only able to get close without them figuring out who they were.

An obsession, one that he would hunt down and tear apart until his dying moments.

Ken was certain that they were real, in a way he was sure that Miyako did not. He was certain that they could get the others to remember, if they only had time around them.

The obsession would haunt him.

He was certain of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Ken's freelance work is cross dressing sex worker.


	3. Forgotten prayers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Iori, written in second person POV.
> 
> I still find Iori hard to write, but honestly? This was a lot of fun!

The sweat drips into your eyes as you bring your kendo shinai down. With the move, you have finished your practice for the day. You bow as you tuck your weapon underneath your arm, offering up a small prayer before turning back to your bag.

It's quiet where you practice, a short walk from the train station to the secluded clearing.

Peaceful, beautiful, serene.

Unmarred by the destruction that you had witnessed within Tokyo, within the digital world.

The only thing that keeps you in the present is the notion that you could do something. There is little that you can do, other than keep up your routine.

When you had returned, after you had been released from the hospital, you had gone to your grandfather's dojo. You had tried to catch this attention. The fact that you, as a twelve year old, have been released without much fanfare, should have raised questions. Should have told you that something was wrong.

When you had tried to explain to the doctors about the digital world, they had just waved you through, stared into the distance. They let all four of you walk out.

Five.

It made you amused that sometimes, you forgot about Ryo. Maybe it was because you had never met him. He was Ken’s friend, from his first visit to the digital world. Only Ken could recall him with clarity every day.

None of you had heard from the man in the last two years and you have to wonder if he were still alive.

At first, none of you had connected the dots. When you tried to go to your family, you were discarded. When you tried to at least wave down your jogress partner, he had given a brief, hesitant wave, then walked by as if you didn’t even exist.

To be frank, you hadn’t even seen the underlying tension and anger that Takeru had usually held within himself. The anger that Ken had been helping him work through.

The four of you had regrouped, talk to each other. Ken hadn’t bothered to go home. Miyako was heartbroken. Daisuke had his optimism going for him and you were quiet. You never told them about your trip home.

As you leave the clearing, taking the short walk through the woods to the train station, you think on these things. Getting a train ticket and boarding was simple. It had been six years since the incident. Four years since you and the others started living with Taichi.

Being eighteen made it easier to get things done. No one questioned why you weren't in school. No one asked where your parents were.

To get out of the last one when you were younger, you had simply mentioned the digital world and you faded from their memory. There was the occasional person who, you assumed, lived under rocks where they had never heard of the digital world. You, personally, had only run across two of those cases.

Ken had come across more than you.

One was a sweet, older lady who had been full of concern when you were hanging out at a park during school. You were thirteen and, honestly, Ken had been tutoring you all, including himself. Miyako had found someone who had been able to make fake ids and forge certificates.

Ken had done and sacrificed a lot to help you. And you wonder how much of the that was the Kaiser, struggling to right the wrongs, and Ken, who had nearly fallen apart on you. Who had to be dragged from the bathroom some days, sobbing and broken.

It was all you could do to convince the woman that you were okay to be out of school, despite how young you looked.

You did find that, if you did mention the digital world to people who knew, the effect would wear off within a couple of days and you would be a real person to them again.

You let the thoughts settle around you as the train calls out your stop. You deboard with several others, adjusting the grip on your bag as he head towards the graveyard.

You were twelve when the reboot hit the earth. You were thirteen when you heard of your grandfather's passing. Sixteen when you found out your mother had remarried. Only three months after the events of the reboot, as you called it.

Now, you head to visit his grave, to honor him as you had in the past.

You hoped, after death, he would remember you.

And it is here when you see a four year old watching you curiously, a woman standing off to the side and looking at a plaque that you knew marked your father's grave. As the child watched, you raise a hand, offering him a smile.

The four year old tugs at your mother's hand, the woman bending and the child whispering in her hair. This far away, you chance a small smile and nod at them, before letting your gaze return to your grandfather's grave.

You're kneeling in front of it, wondering where all of your words have gone when you hear the footsteps.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm praying," you respond and turn to look at the child. He looks more like your mother, than the man she remarried and your heart aches.

"Did you know him?"

"Yeah, I did. He taught me kendo." You gesture towards your bag. The child's eyes go wide, glancing from the grave plaque to you.

"Are you any good?"

You laugh, amusement rolling through you. The child was curious, and you wonder what it would be like to have him as a brother. "I would think so."

The child nodded, face solemn. "Mama says he was a good man."

"Your mother would be correct."

"What's your name?"

You tilt your head at the question, giving up on finishing your praying for the day. "Hida Iori."

It comes out easily, though you agree with Miyako that your name no longer fits who you are. But, to this child, you are unable to lie. He would, you rationalize, be your half brother, if you were still acknowledged by your mother.

"Who are you talking to, dear?"

Your thoughts are ripped apart when the woman comes over, and there is pain in your heart when you hear your mother's voice.

"The boy. He says his name is Hida Iori."

When you look up, you see confusion cloud the woman's gave before she's kneeling, pulling the child into her arms. "There's no one by that name, dear."

"He's visiting grandpa Hida's grave."

"No, there's..."

And she's looking at you, then through you and you sigh, pushing yourself up. You bow to the grave, first, then to your half-brother.

There are tears in your eyes as you walk away, silent as a ghost.

Perhaps, you find yourself considering, Miyako was right.

There is nothing left of your old lives.

Nothing but forgotten prayers.


	4. How deep resentment burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Daisuke.

It's like holding his breath underwater.

The pain in his chest was ripe to burst and he had nowhere to put the anger. The kitchen was cleaned, the living room was clean. He had started in on their bedroom two hours ago, and it was now clean.

His emotions rode him, drove him, and still he couldn't escape from them.

They were his driving force, his everything. They were what caged him, too.

He stepped out of the room, shutting the door and looking at the apartment. It was cleaner, cleaner than it had been in months.

Taichi and Ken still weren't back, which worried Daisuke. Miyako had returned, staying on the couch.

Iori was doing whatever Iori did.

And Daisuke was bogged down in his feelings.

"Dai?"

His gaze flicked to Miyako, realizing he had been standing and staring for nearly twenty minutes. He shook himself, turning to her with a smile.

"What's up, Miya?"

Always a smile for them, no matter what. When they were lost, forgotten, he smiled for them. He held them while they cried. He smiled, made them laugh, forced his own emotions away.

He helped Taichi, in the first couple of months after he had been dropped off at the apartment, his parents offering a couple of words. It had been, by chance, that Daisuke had come across him that first day Taichi had wandered past him.

And Taichi had been thrilled, to see them in the flesh. Had insisted that they come with him, live with him.

And, so, they had. They managed to get five people in an apartment meant for, maybe, four.

And the managed. For four years, they managed.

Daisuke gave them a smile whenever he saw them. He made sure they ate, they got to work, they got out of the house. They got fed.

And he wanted to burn it down. He wanted to let his rage spill out. He wanted to cry, to scream, to rage.

He had held Iori when they found out his grandfather had died. Had gone with him to the grave. Had ignored the fact that Iori's mother had seen him, but not her own son.

He had never met the woman, and Iori hadn't spoken much about Daisuke to his mother. It had only taken Daisuke mentioning the digital world before her eyes glazed over and it was forgotten.

Daisuke had given everything for his friends. For his team. And every day, he felt like he was running himself raw.

"Do you want to do takeout for dinner tonight? You don't look well."

Daisuke's gaze snapped back to Miyako, focusing on the now.

"Yeah, I think I would like that. Where did Ken and Tai go?"

She let out a shrug. "Hikari got married."

Daisuke winced at those words, walking over to Miyako and sitting next to her. Her laptop was perched on the coffee table, an empty tab staring at them.

"Takeru?"

Miyako let out a muffled whimper, Daisuke pulling her into a hug. He tightened his grip on her as the sobs overtook her, his anger boiling.

His emotions always ran their race. They had always burned bright.

Now, the anger was a constant thing. It boiled deep below, pushing the other emotions faster, harder.

And he could understand Ken's desire to be the Kaiser.

He wanted to destroy Yggdrasil, Homeostasis, even the Harmonious Ones if it meant getting to right the wrongs done to them.

"It's okay to cry." Daisuke's voice is soft, hiding away his inner turmoil. He was good at that, masking what he felt so he didn't upset the others. It didn't even other him when Miyako sobbed harder, leaving a wet spot on his shirt.

They sat like that, until Daisuke heard the click of the door being unlocked. When he looked up, he saw Iori walk in, face a stony mask. The young man offered him a nod, taking off his shoes before he shuffled to the room, putting his things away.

Taking note that the place was clean, Daisuke was pleased to see.

"Dai?"

"Yeah, Miya?" Daisuke let his gaze draw back to Miyako, watching as she wiped at her eyes, sitting up.

"Can we get really, really drunk?"

Daisuke considered the question, brushing hair out of her face and offering her a tissue from the recently opened box. Early evening light filtered in from the windows, warming them both as Miyako accepted the tissue.

"I don't think it would be good. Yo, Iori, how was the graveyard?" Daisuke asked, turning his gaze to the youngest member of their team.

"I ran into my half brother and mother."

Daisuke heard the emotion underlying the words. Out of them all, Iori was the best at keeping a hand close to his chest. The best at avoiding emotional breakdowns and keeping them carefully tucked out of Daisuke's sight.

Now, Daisuke could see that facade about to crack, no matter how hard Iori was struggling.

"Want to come sit?" Daisuke offered.

"No, I am going to take a shower. Perhaps, after."

Daisuke heard the hesitance in Iori's voice and nodded, understanding the meaning behind it.

Daisuke would be there for them all, as long as he had breath in his body. He would be there for them, even if it meant putting his life on the line. He would be there when no other was.

His gaze swung around the apartment, Miyako throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly and he returned the hug, murmuring words of comfort.

The first two years, when Ryo was in and out of their lives, Daisuke had gotten a fair amount of blood on him. He could feel that rage build up in him now, resentment of everything, of their hand.

"Fuck them." Daisuke whispered, feeling Miyako freeze.

"Who?"

He pulled back, when she started to squirm, and met her gaze. "The ones that took it from us. Fuck them, for everything that they did.”

"Whoever fucking decided the reboot was a good thing." Miyako let out a little, small giggle at her words, despite her words sounding hollow. She was tense, but she had nodded in agreement.

It was the most he would say about the whole thing. He fixed the smile back on his face.

"Let's get really fucking drunk tonight." he decided.

And they did, all five of them. Going to one of their better known haunts. One that would not question their friendship, or how young Iori looked.

And it was here, that Daisuke found himself now, staring down the man that was leering. Who had been hitting on Iori for the past thirty minutes. Who had driven Daisuke to the point of breaking when he wouldn’t fucking leave the first he asked.

It was someone he could direct his anger and ire towards.

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" Daisuke demanded, raising his voice.

"What about the whore you call a mom?"

His gaze flashed and he was hurtling himself at the man, his fist sinking into the yeiling flesh of the man's gut.

Surprise flashed across the man's face and Daisuke could feel himself boil over. The emotions were pure, unaltered as the fight was finished. Daisuke could feel the pain of broken skin on his knuckles, the man's face worse off.

He had put his everything into making sure that his friends were okay. That they would pull through. He wondered, as Ken sat in the bathroom, dabbing a wet napkin against his broken skin, when he had taken care of himself.

"That was stupid."

"He tried to hit on you."

Ken's gaze jerked upwards, landing on Daisuke's face.

"I can take care of myself."

Daisuke gritted his teeth, locking his gaze on the door just beyond them. They hadn't been kicked out, for which Daisuke was grateful. He would have hated himself more if that had happened.

"I... I know." He dropped his head, Ken standing and grabbing Daisuke's jaw. And, with a tight grip, he forced his head back up.

"You are going to hurt yourself, if you insist on blocking us all out. You take so much onto yourself. You have helped us get through so much. Don't forget that you are human, as well."

"We lost, Ken."

"We lost once, Daisuke."

"And it cost us everything!"

The words were sharp, Daisuke coiled like a spring. The hand was still around his jaw, holding his head in place. He wanted to pull away, to snap, to yell. To do something other than look at Ken, to see the pleading in his eyes.

"I talked to Takeru and Hikari today, Daisuke."

The words made him freeze, the anger fizzling out, slow enough to make Daisuke hurt.

"How?" His voice was rough, and Daisuke wondered if he had found his breaking point. If the past six years had been too much, and he was finally going to break down.

"As Kimi."

Daisuke let out a harsh breath, his nostrils flaring. "It didn't affect..."

"No, that aspect of me developed after the reboot. It's not affected."

Daisuke laughed then, feeling his emotions crash around him. When Ken let go of his jaw, he stood up, pulling him into a kiss and a hug.

"I hate this," he whispers, "and what it has done to us."

"I know." Ken's hand rested on Daisuke's shoulder, rubbing slow, circular patterns.

"I want to kill them."

It was soft, just the barest of whispers, but Daisuke knew that Ken heard by the way he nodded.

His emotions always burned brightly, always affected him to the fullest extent. He was willing to do anything for his friends, for his team.

He would lay his life down, kill a person if it meant protecting any of them. He even included Taichi in that, knowing the guilt that curled around him when he tried to sleep at night.

there was nothing to do, but let the emotions ride him, he knew that. Fighting against them was useless. It only dragged him down, choked him. Better to get into fights, to use them until they fizzled and settled.

And he was aware of just how deep the resentment burns inside him.


End file.
